If Only
by Dubhe Epsilon
Summary: There are so many pairings that have never been used. Maybe they force Percabeth to break up. Maybe they're just silly. But anything can happen in another world, right? Collection of AU rare couple oneshots. Latest chapter: Narcissus/Narcissus.
1. The Outcasts: CalypsoxLeo

**This is for the Pairing-AU Diversity Challenge on the Of Prompts and Challenges Forum. I'll write oneshots like this for 30 rare pairings. The prompt is ataraxia. The Pairing is Leo/Calypso. Calypso might not be totally tranquil, but she's definitely as close as PJO comes.  
**

Children squabbled, running around in the hot air. Their parents talked, laughing and complaining and gossiping. One man stood apart from them. He was bitter, tired, and burdened by work. Because of a business dispute and a feud springing from it, this man was an outcast. Still, he lived in the neighborhood and he came to all social gatherings with his daughter.

She was also an outcast. She sat under a tree, oblivious to the shrieks of children around her. She wasn't smiling. She wasn't frowning. She was serene, on her own island, away from everyone else. Sometimes, though, her stoic appearance would crack. She would gaze wistfully at the other children, but she never left her place to approach them. Her name was Calypso and her father was Atlas.

A woman stood within the group, smiling and laughing, though she too was wistful. Her son laughed and played with the other children, but she could see the other women in the group crinkle their faces in concern whenever her son approached their children. They had heard rumors. She pretended not to notice and they never said anything to her. Her name was Esperanza and her son was Leo.

Leo tumbled into another kid. All the adults, even Esperanza, winced. It was nothing and both got up, laughing. Most of the adults turned back to their conversations, relieved. All except for Rosa, Esperanza's sister, who scolded Leo, despite the other child's protests. She sent him to a nearby tree and he stomped off.

Calypso sat on the other side of the tree, but Leo decided to stay on his side. To be fair, he held his resolve for about five minutes. When he couldn't think of anything to do under a tree without his friends, he turned around to her. She smiled, acknowledging his presence, but she didn't speak. Leo began fiddling around with twigs, constantly building and destroying tiny structures. Another five minutes passed and he was bored again. He studied her, trying to learn her secret for keeping herself amused without moving or speaking. He imitated her position, crossing his legs and staring at the horizon. It didn't work. He turned around and broke the silence.

"How do you do it?" said Leo.

"What?" she said, startled.

"I mean, you stay here perfectly still, while I've been here ten minutes and I'm bored out of my mind. I've done everything I can think of and you don't do anything. Aren't you lonely or something?" he said.

"Yes, I'm lonely," she said.

"Why don't you come out from under the tree and talk to people and stuff?" he said.

"They wouldn't let me."

"Who's they?"

She shrugged, "Your parents, the other adults."

"My mom wouldn't."

"I meant the other adults."

"Yeah, well, they don't like me either. Kids crash into other kids all the time, but no one ever gets punished. Maybe they get yelled at, but they never have to sit under a tree."

"I suppose so," said Calypso.

"It's all because of the nasty rumors spread about me. None of them are true."

"Really? Mia thinks you gave a burn."

"I snapped a rubber band at her. She always exaggerates. Maybe she thought it was a burn, but it definitely wasn't. Even she admits it now." Leo defended himself. She half-smiled.

"What about you? Why don't you just leave?" Leo pressed.

"I've told you. They won't let me."

"What are they going to do about it?" he pointed out, "Are they going to drag you back to the tree?"

"Probably not," she admitted.

"Let's try it. Man, I want to see the look on Aunt Rosa's face when she sees us. And she can't stop us either," Leo crowed. Calypso sighed, brushed dirt off her clothes, and followed him.

* * *

"Hey, Calypso," Leo called. She smiled slightly. They sat on the outskirts of a school dance

"Don't you want to dance?" he said, awkwardly.

"I suppose."

"Awww, come on, don't tell me you're still afraid of the adults yelling at you."

"It isn't that, it's just that I don't want to, well, I want to socialize and be around other people, but at the same time, I want to be alone. No, I don't want to be alone, but I don't really want to be around others. Does that make sense?" Calypso said.

Leo grinned, "That's got to be the longest thing you've ever said to me."

Calypso glared at him, "Did you actually listen to what I said?"

"Yeah!" he said defensively, "You said that you want to be alone or something, right? Wait, do you want me to leave?"

"No, I said that the reason I'm not sure about social interactions is that I want to be with others, but at the same time I want to be alone. Then I asked if that made sense."

"Not really, I mean how can you feel two completely different things at once?" Leo responded.

"You can," Calypso insisted, "You can want two things at same time. Like, you can want to get a hamburger because it tastes good and a salad because it is good."

"That's different," he protested, "Besides, I'd get the hamburger every time. I'm young. My metabolism's good."

"Forget it," she said. She leaned back and her face shifted back to a neutral expression.

"Anyway," he pressed, "I thought you'd changed. You know, gotten braver. I'd think I wouldn't have to even ask you."

"You haven't changed much either."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he grinned.

"There are still rumors."

"Yeah, but I don't care much anymore."

"Then why aren't you dancing?" Calypso said.

"Just because I don't care, doesn't mean other people don't." There was a long silence.

"I'll dance," she said abruptly. Leo hauled himself to his feet and they walked towards the dance.

"Look, a Snowball dance is starting," Leo said.

"What's that?" Calypso said.

"Well, they start with two people and they dance for awhile and then those people go find new partners from the crowd and they dance and so on until everyone is dancing. Well, almost everyone. Some people don't get in."

"That's too bad," she responded.

"Yeah, it's not too much fun if you aren't dancing."

"Hmmm, then I think we need a pact," she said.

"Pact?" he responded.

"Yes, a pact. That if one of us gets in, we'll get the other one in, too," she said.

"Oh... I guess," Leo said, his face bright red.

"Only so neither of us has to miss out on dancing," Calypso said quickly.

"Of course."

Calypso was picked first and, true to the pact, immediately picked Leo. He awkwardly put his hands on her shoulders. She put hands on his shoulders. Calypso glanced around.

"I think you are supposed to put your hands on my waist," she said. Leo scanned the crowd.

"I guess so." They swayed awkwardly, stepping on each other's feet. The music stopped and Leo felt almost relieved. Still, it had been sort of fun.

"Calypso?" he said.

"Yeah?"

"Ummm... I think I know what you mean about feeling two totally different things at once," he said. She smiled.

"I had fun, too."


	2. Four is Death?: ReynaxPercy

**Okay, this chapter is Reyna/Percy. It takes place in an alternate universe where the Gaea threat was a joke played by Travis and Connor. The trick was revealed at the end of Son of Neptune. After the Stolls had their laugh (and a pat on the back from the Mercury campers), kids in both camps went on with there lives, albeit with knowledge of the other camp. The prompt is "Four is Death". I do not own PJO or HoO, or anything else recognizable I accidently put in here.**

"Four is death."

"Uh, okay. But can we go back to talking about the quest?"

"Four is death."

"Uh, Reyna, that's great. Could we please talk about the quest?" Percy scratched his head, wondering if he was missing something.

"We are talking about the quest. Four is death," Reyna droned, enjoying every second of Percy's confusion.

"Uh, Reyna, could you explain that to me?"

"It's your camp's rules. No more than three to a quest. Four demigods attract too much trouble. We can't take Leo and Annabeth because that would make four demigods," Reyna explained.

"We've had quests of four before now," Percy argued.

"Look what happened on those. I don't want to lose you," Reyna replied. There was an awkward silence as Percy considered the weight of the statement.

"Do you mean that you don't want to lose me or Annabeth or Leo, or do you care about me?" Reyna considered the question.

"I left my camp for you, Seaweed Brain." Reyna immediately wished she hadn't used the nickname. It was Annabeth's special name for Percy.

Percy stiffened. Reyna sighed.

"What?" Percy said, forcing himself to relax.

"Are you mad that I used Annabeth's nickname for you?" she asked cautiously.

"Are you trying to take her place?" Percy asked, avoiding Reyna's eyes. There was an awkward silence. Reyna sighed. Percy glanced up, quickly averting his eyes. Reyna sighed again.

"It's kinda sad that this is our relationship at its best. We're being honest with each other and we can't look each other in the eye," Reyna ventured.

"I wish it wasn't this way," Percy responded.

"Me, too."

"You know I'm not trying to take Annabeth's place, right? I'm her friend." Reyna said. Percy stared off in the distance.

"I really like you, Reyna. I don't want to break off this relationship," Percy began, "I care about you, too," he said, still not meeting her eyes. The sentiment was forced, as though Percy felt obliged to say it.

Reyna silently cursed herself for getting too personal too fast. Why did she say she cared about him? Why did she use Annabeth's nickname for him? She was an idiot and they were both in an awkward place because of it. What was with her and relationships anyway? Why was she even asking that question when she already knew the answer? Relationships were one game she was always going to lose, and like a Las Vegas drunk, she kept on playing it, blind to her past failures. She should have never left Camp Jupiter.

She didn't know how to act in a romantic relationship. If she was herself, every interaction was painfully awkward. She mostly just pretended to be someone else, playing a part. Annabeth and Percys' relationship was so fluid, so nice, full of inside jokes and easy, stress-free kisses. It ended as beautifully as it began; the two remained friends. Now, their relationship was basically the same as before they broke up, minus the physical aspect. She was pretending to be Annabeth, taking Annabeth's place despite what Reyna had told Percy.

'Four is death.' Annabeth would have pointed that out, too. They thought alike. Reyna wondered if in acting like Annabeth, she was becoming Annabeth.

Part of Percy was afraid that he'd upset her. The other part was furious that she was making this quick decision into an emotional nightmare. The silence was beginning to grow awkward, and Percy felt obliged to break it, even if it meant saying something stupid. He hated this part of relationships.

"Is this really about the number of people on the quest?"

Reyna whipped her head around, glaring. She met his eyes, for the first time.

"What do you think?" she snapped, resisting the urge to call him Seaweed Brain. Percy went with the safest answer.

"Uhhhh…no." It was Reyna's turn to stare stonily out the window. Did she want to talk about feelings, Percy wondered, or was she just in a bad mood? Percy decided on the latter.

"You're sounding more like yourself now…" Percy said, hoping this would cheer her up, "The whole Seaweed Brain thing…" Percy trailed off, uncertain as to whether that was the right thing to say.

"You think I sounded like someone else?" she asked, wondering if it was that obvious.

"Well, sort of…" Percy hesitated, struggling to put his observation into words. With a burst of inspiration, he began again.

"Hey, you know when you've eaten something with a really distinctive taste and then you throw up? And you can kinda taste the thing you ate, but the flavor's distorted, and the throw-up taste at the same time. Well, you kinda distort Annabeth's voice..." Percy trailed off. Reyna didn't know whether to laugh or be offended. She chose the latter, but she changed her decision at the sight of Percy's face.

He started to laugh, too. Sheer stress brought them both to hysterics. They laughed together giddily for minutes on end. It felt good to laugh together, whatever the cause was, Reyna thought.

"I'm sorry, that was a bad metaphor," sputtered Percy, trying to compose himself. This made Reyna laugh harder, which in turn made Percy lose what little control he had salvaged. It was minutes before they composed themselves for real.

"But seriously, though," Reyna said, "Be honest, because I won't get offended. Do I really sound like Annabeth?" Percy stopped smiling and thought for a second.

"Not really. I mean, sometimes it sounds like you're imitating her, but you have your own way of saying stuff."

"Good," Reyna said, relieved. This was followed by another, far less awkward silence. After a moment, Reyna ventured a thought she had been mulling over.

"You know, I think I was on to something. Four would be death for our relationship. Imagine if we had two former lovers with us," Reyna said, recalling her brief fling with Leo.

"I think that would make our relationship stronger. Quests and jealousy always did that for Annabeth and me, " Percy argued.

"I don't know. Do you want to risk it?" Reyna responded.

"I love you. I'm over Annabeth, and I sure that you're over Leo. We can survive this," Percy said, confidently, "Besides, Annabeth and Leo would be so helpful. They would make this quest a huge success. Come on…what do you say?"

Reyna was torn. Strengthen the relationship or preserve it? Fulfill her duty to Camp Half-Blood or fulfill her wants? What should she do?

**Preserve the relationship or test it? Duty or personal wants? What should Reyna do? Leave your opinion in a review or go on my profile to vote in the poll. **

**Note: This is not role-play. Reviewers' responses will not affect Reyna's actions, mostly because this is a oneshot.**


	3. Remembering: ClarissexPercy

**Okay, this is based on the prompt "wartime stories". Kronos has won, and the pairing is Clarisse/Percy. I don't own PJO.  
**

I ran through the woods of Camp Half-Blood, an army of monsters chasing after me. I sidestepped through a thicket, brambles scratching my arms. I didn't care much about that. I had plenty of scars by now.

I hadn't lost the monsters yet, but I could catch my breath here. As soon as I stopped, thoughts flooded my head. I couldn't believe what had just happened. I couldn't believe that I'd lost him.

What's wrong with you, Clarisse? I couldn't afford these insidious thoughts. I began running again to make the thoughts go away.

Just as well. The monsters seemed to have caught my scent. I ran faster, adrenaline coursing through me. Gods, I love this feeling. No pesky emotions, no complex maze of social interactions. Just one hero fighting for her life. If I lost, it was my fault. And no teammate could keep me from winning. Nothing was beyond my control.

The irony hit me just then, stopping me in my tracks. I wasn't fighting for my life. I was running for my life. I whirled around. A huge hellhound barreled towards me, red eyes gleaming. Its dark hair was glossy. Mine was in a bird's nest. No fair. I stabbed the hellhound with my last knife. It was a lucky stab; usually it took more than that to fell a hellhound.

I had little time to rest on my laurels. A chimera charged me. I sidestepped, then lunged forward to catch it in the side. I missed. In a moment of desperation and stupidity, I carelessly hurled the knife, my last knife, at the chimera.

I had no choice but to run away. I cursed myself for my utter idiocy. Now I had to run, like a coward again. I cursed Percy for dying. I cursed Kronos for destroying my life. I cursed the Olympians for letting him. I cursed my dad for surrendering. I cursed myself again for good measure.

I needed to kill the monsters or lose them. Killing didn't seem to be an option now that I'd lost my knife. I needed to come up with a diversion. I needed to get the monsters to lose my scent.

I considered my options, and decided on the first one that popped into my head. Maybe not my best decision.

The monsters would lose my scent if I got in the water. I was near the creek now. If I could just get under water.

I moved forward with a new burst of speed, all doubt leaving my mind. I had to get there. I had to, I had to, I had to.

I dove into a bed of reds, taking a deep breath before submerging myself completely. I allowed the surprisingly icy current to carry me down, away from the monsters.

* * *

Turns out I was an idiot. Again. Rocks at the bottom of the creek tore at my clothes and skin. 100 yards downstream, and I couldn't hold my breath any longer. The creek was deeper than I'd thought. It had never rained in camp before the defeat, so the creek I was used to was only a trickle of water compared to this. Titans had pounded the camp with rain since the defeat, so the creek was horrible. And I couldn't navigate it.

I should have seen that coming. Honestly, I wasn't Per-

I stopped before I could finish that thought. Bad thoughts, Clarisse, I scolded myself. You have to concentrate.

I grabbed a rock in the middle of the stream, taking a quick breath just as I slipped off it, thanks to the slimy moss covering the rock. As I fell back into the current, my chin slammed against the rock, rattling my whole skull. I tasted blood pooling in my mouth. Ow, ow, ow, I mentally chanted. I sucked in air; that sometimes alleviated the pain of a nasty battle wound.

Unfortunately, that strategy didn't work when I was underwater, as all I sucked in was filthy, bloody water. I flailed, trying to grab onto another rock. Oh, I found a rock alright. I smacked my elbow against it. Tingling coursed through my arm, as I continued my struggle to stay afloat.

I anchored myself to another rock. Thankfully, it didn't have much moss. I spat out the blood in my mouth. As the blood splashed into the water, saw and heard a tooth go in with it. _Di immortales! Crap!_

I scrambled up on the rock to examine my wounds. My back was cut up from the rocks in the stream, but it wasn't as bad as I'd been afraid. At least from what I could tell, craning my neck and twisting myself around while trying to stay balanced on the stupid rock. My arms and legs were covered in shallow scratches from the brambles. On the bright side, I had no broken bones.

It was late afternoon, and I was getting tired. I needed to get out of the creek for real. The bank was about three yards away. I couldn't jump it.

Keeping a firm hand on the rock, I stepped out into the stream. The water only reached my thighs. When I let go I walked at an angle, against the current and towards the shore. I hauled myself up the muddy bank, barely keeping my balance. I cursed in my head. The creek was never like this before. As soon as the stupid titans took away the bad weather protection from Camp Half-Blood, rain pounded down on us few survivors. And summer was supposed to be dry here anyways. I hated it. They were taking away an important part of camp. This made me sadder than when they had burned down the cabins.

Mosquitoes flourished now. I grumbled to myself about the stupid bugs, swatting a few on my leg. I looked up and saw none other than Annabeth Chase, pointing a knife at me, her eyes narrowed. Crap, crap, crap, crap, how could I have been so freaking careless. I was an idiot.

I considered my options. I could kick the knife out of her hands, but then we would be enemies and she would be trying to kill me. She was armed and I wasn't. I could beat her hand to hand-I was bigger than her-but I couldn't be certain that I could disarm her. I don't think she's seeking conflict-she hasn't attacked yet. I sighed. The only good option would be to convince her that I wasn't trying to hurt her. It wasn't like I was surrendering to Kronos. Annabeth was the last person to betray camp. Even if camp didn't really exist anymore.

I stepped forward, my hands raised above my head, palms towards her. A position of surrender. My dad would hate it if I ever did this. Too bad he had already surrendered himself.

"Annabeth, I'm your ally," I said, stepping forward cautiously. Annabeth stiffened. Her eyes searched my face, calculating.

"Is that you, Clarisse?" She had taken a step back. Yippee, I was gaining ground.

"Yeah," I didn't know what else to say. Social encounters were not exactly my forte. Especially when I couldn't bark insults.

Annabeth lowered her knife, though she was still alert. I managed a weak smile.

"I'm not armed," I said, stating the obvious.

"I can see that. What in the name of Zeus were you doing in the river?"

"It's a long story. Can I drop my hands?" They were getting tired, and I disliked standing up with open space behind me.

Annabeth sighed, "If you must." I dropped my arms, relieved.

"Thanks," I settled myself against a rock. Much better.

"So," Annabeth said, impatiently, "What happened?"

"I was running from monsters and-"

"The great Clarisse LaRue, daughter of the war god, was running away from monsters?" Annabeth cut me off.

I sighed and swallowed some of my pride, "Yes, I was running away. In my defense, there were a ton of monsters and they had just killed-I mean, needed to get away."

"Who did they kill?"

"Doesn't matter, and stop interrupting me. I did turn around and fight them, but I lost my knife when I threw it at at chimera-"

"Why'd you throw your knife?" Annabeth interrupted me yet again.

"It was a mistake," I snapped, "I needed to get them to lose my scent so I jumped into the creek-" Here I paused to swat another stupid mosquito. "-and the current was stronger than I expected. Okay?" Annabeth mulled over this for a second.

"Who'd they kill?"

"None of your business!" I practically shouted. I didn't want to think about this anymore.

"Tell me!"

"I don't want to talk about it!" I was going to cry any second now.

Annabeth's gaze softened, but she still persisted, "C'mon, tell me! Is it anyone I know?"

"Yes! They killed Percy! Okay? Are you happy now?" I sucked in air again, hoping it would quell the lump in my throat. I couldn't cry in front of her. I couldn't, I couldn't, I couldn't. I was still the daughter of the war god, even if he was defeated and imprisoned.

"I'm sorry," Annabeth looked slightly ashamed, "I didn't mean too."

"Well, guess what? You did it anyway," I was so close to the edge. Tears were pooling in my eyes. I stretched my eyelids to accommodate them, to no avail. I held breath and stayed perfectly still, afraid that if I moved I would just explode.

I couldn't hold it in for much longer. I needed to breathe.

I opened my mouth and inhaled.

"I really loved him, you know. He never lost his sense of humor," I babbled, on the exhale, "He fought well, and he hated my dad, but we still made it work. He saved my life and I saved his, but I couldn't help him in the end. When that Minotaur, his old enemy, when that Minotaur tore him open, I couldn't do anything but stand there frozen, watching his guts go all over the place, and the blood...Annabeth, I'm no stranger to battles. I've seen my blood go all over the place and I've seen friends die, but when it's someone you love like that and you know they're not going to make it...you see all the gore...I'm a daughter of the war god...I watched Ares surrender, but I didn't cry, I never cried in battle, I used to love the gore; I used to love fighting and..." I collapsed into sobs. I tried to stop myself, but I couldn't hold it in. Annabeth hugged me and I leaned against her, rocking back and forth.

After a second, she spoke, "Clarisse, I don't mean to be insensitive..."

I smiled weakly, "I know, I'm giving away our position. I'll keep it down. Sorry 'bout that.'

Annabeth shook her head, "I don't mean it that way. It's good to cry when you're sad. Crying releases endorphins. Makes you feel better." I did feel a little better, actually.

"Thanks, Annabeth. I should probably get moving. Any chance you got an extra knife?"

Annabeth shook her head, "No. We can stay together, though." I thought for a second.

"Sure, thanks." Annabeth got to her feet, too, and I followed her into the woods.

After we walked for awhile, Annabeth spoke again, "He was a good friend."

"He was."


	4. Stealing Has Upsides: AnnabethxTravis

**Okay, the pairing is Annabeth/Travis, for the prompt "twice the trouble".**

"Annabeth! How are you doing up there? Do you need help?" Travis called up to her.

"Of course not. Give me another minute...there, I've disabled the security system," Annabeth leapt down from her perch on the bank's low roof. Travis scrambled out of the way, crashing into an aluminum trash can. It fell over and bounced down the street clanging loud enough to make Annabeth wince each time it hit the ground. Travis was unperturbed.

"Travis," she hissed, "You understand that burglary is a felony, right? That we go to _jail_ if we're caught. That maybe we should keep it down."

"Yeah, but we won't get caught," Travis said confidently, "I'm the son of Hermes Stoll, the greatest thief that ever lived. It's in my blood."

"What, being stupid? I'm a daughter of Athena Chase, who caught and prosecuted him, so it's in my blood to be careful and not to recklessly jump into things!" Annabeth retorted indignantly.

Travis sighed, "Come on, Annabeth." He climbed up to a ledge just in front of the bank's only window. Peering inside, he saw that it was an office, a very plush and extravagant office, at that.

"What's this room?" he called down to Annabeth. She had closely studied the bank's floor plan before that night. By day, Annabeth was an architecture student, and she'd gotten the copy of the blueprint from the city hall with her student ID. So had half her class, as the bank was an important, though little known piece of architecture, so Annabeth wasn't so worried about this incriminating her. She was Sheriff Chase's daughter, for heaven's sake.

"It's the bank manager's office," she called up.

"Cool, I'm heading in."

"Wait!" She was too late. Travis had already kicked through the window and jumped into the office. Cursing, Annabeth scrambled up after him.

Once she entered the office, she began to scold, "Travis, you've got to be careful-"

"Of what? You disabled the alarms."

"From the outside! With the minimal tools I had! I could have missed something, you know!" Annabeth snapped, irritated at being interrupted.

"So? I trust you!" He gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

Annabeth sighed, "Just be careful."

"I will. I always am!" Travis turned back around to the fancy office.

"You have your gloves, right? And…"

"I'll be fine, Annabeth!" He continued to poke around the office.

"Annabeth, this place is awesome! Look at that sculpture. Forget the vault, we could make a killing here." He gestured at a Greek sculpture of a pretty woman holding a dove. It was made out of worn white stone and stood on a polished cherry pedestal.

"Travis, that sculpture is priceless! It was salvaged from the ruins of the Acropolis. It's over 2000 years old! We can't steal it!" she cried, outraged.

Travis scratched his head. "I think we could find someone to put a price on it. And I wish you had more confidence in me. I know I can steal it; it's right there." He stepped towards the sculpture.

"NO! That's not what I meant and you know it! I'm okay with robbing the vault. There we're just robbing a few people of their money. Here we're robbing the world of one of its greatest treasures!"

Travis rolled his eyes. "Annabeth, come on. When we rob the vault, we're robbing people of their savings, their retirement money, their kid's college fund. Don't sugarcoat it."

"When you say it like that..." Annabeth hesitated, her old doubts coming back. _Maybe that wasn't the best thing to say_, thought Travis.

"You remember why we're doing it, though, right?" Travis said, trying to recover her support.

"Yeah, so we can run away and get married...Gosh, Travis, we are so selfish."

"Yep, I'm okay with it. C'mon, Annabeth," Travis said, rather abruptly, in Annabeth's opinion. Still troubled, she followed him out the door.

Travis looked out into the sea of cubicles with apprehension, "Where we going now, Annabeth?"

"Well, according the blueprints, we go 100 feet the right, turn right, walk 100 feet, turn right again and walk for another hundred feet, turn right one last time, and then walk the final 100 feet."

Travis stared at her blankly, "That would take us back where we are right now, wouldn't it?"

"Mmm-hmm. Yes, you do the lap and understand that burglary may seem glamorous, but you'll end up right back where you started because of your poor spending habits. I meanwhile stay here and hope the lap has knocked some sense into you."

"Annabeth, we don't have time for this! You said it yourself, burglary is a felony! If we're caught, we go to jail!"

"Yeah, but you're the one that doesn't get it, not me!"

Travis sighed, "Let's go."

"Fine." Travis let her have the last word. That was probably the only way they would ever get moving. After all, she was the one who knew the blueprint. And more importantly, he owed her. It had been purely his idea to rob the bank, though she had planned most of it. This was probably going to be the most fun part of the plan, so he better enjoy it.

"This is the atrium," called Annabeth, "Oh my gosh, it's amazing.

"Eh," Travis responded. _It's a good thing I didn't let her bring her camera_, he thought, watching his fiance gush over the bank's atrium.

"Travis!" she said, dragging him over to see something, "Look at these twisting pillars! Aren't they gorgeous?"

"Actually, they're giving me nausea. Can we hurry up?"

Annabeth sighed, "You're impossible!" She dragged herself away from the atrium, heading towards the vault.

"Okay, so I'm impossible. But I'm right too, right?" Travis said, jumping along beside her.

"I guess so," Annabeth admitted, "But _come_ on!"

They walked through a maze of corridors, before arriving at a shiny brass door without a knob.

"Can I do the honors?" Travis asked, smiling impishly. This was the only part of the plan that Annabeth hadn't planned down to the minute, and he was going to enjoy it. He hadn't told her what he was planning to do, though, but he hoped she wouldn't be too angry.

"Fine," Annabeth said, stepping aside to let him through. Travis pulled something red out of his bag, so quickly that Annabeth couldn't identify it. He fiddled around with the hinges and then turned back to Annabeth.

"Cover your ears, babe," he said to her.

"Travis, I don't think this is such a good-" A loud explosion cut her off. Smoke billowed out through the corridor, and alarms began to sound.

"What was that? I thought you disabled the alarms!" Travis said.

"First of all, I warned you that there might still be secondary alarms. And second of all, that's the smoke detector!"

Travis look relieved. "Oh good, we won't have to deal with the police. We just have to deal with the firemen!"

Annabeth rolled her eyes, "No, Travis, we have to deal with both! Now let's get the money and get out of here."

"Right, yeah!" They dashed into the vault and began to stuff their bags with the cash inside.

"That's enough!" gasped Annabeth after a few second, "We don't need anymore!"

"What? Look, there's still a ton left!"

"We don't need anymore!" Annabeth repeated, "And we've got to get out of here before my mom gets here." She grabbed Travis' arm, and the pair raced back through the hallways to the atrium. Travis paused to catch his breath. Just then, they heard the faint sound of sirens.

"Come on!" Annabeth yelled, grabbing him again. They raced back into the office. Annabeth hurled herself through the window; Travis paused to blow the ancient statue a kiss.

"Come on!" Annabeth repeated, as the sirens grew louder. Travis climbed back through the window. They raced away, skirting around the main streets. Ten minutes later, they were back at Annabeth's house. Both changed clothes. Travis took the robbery clothes and the bags, and after a quick kiss, he left for his house to dispose of them.

Annabeth scrubbed away the smoke and sweat from her face and brushed her teeth. _I can't believe we got away with it_, she thought to herself, _I hope we did, at least, _she amended, as to not jinx herself.

Smiling, she climbed into her bed and thought of her future with Travis Stoll.

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	5. I love myself like a simile: Narcissus

**One could consider this chapter a parody. Pairing is Narcissus/Narcissus. Prompt is asphodel. The AU is one where Narcissus was never resurrected.**

What can I say about myself? Where do I start? Should I begin with my good looks? What about my devotion to me? My charm? My great intelligence, though that is dwarfed by good looks, as is every other trait of mine? What about my general aura of awesomeness? My worldliness, for I have travelled far in pursuit of both mirrors and the perfect metaphor/simile to describe myself with (metaphorically far, for the latter)? I suppose that the best way to demonstrate how out of this world I am is to describe a trait that is normally mundane in other people, but that you will find greatly interesting. Where I am now, for example.

I live in the Fields of Punishment. Apparently, the blindfolded judges were immune to my awesome good looks and obvious charm. I think that blindfolding judges only makes them more biased, though. They focus on irrelevant traits, like my actions and nonexistent character flaws. They ignore the most important thing about me: my great beauty.

I am just so good looking, though. I'm like a perfect diamond in a sea of ugly...things. I'm like a breath of cold air on a day when you really want a breath of cold air. I'm like a really attractive roadside portapotty when you've been holding it for hours (let's not take this simile too far, though).

But enough about me. Let's talk about what the judges thought of me. Apparently they thought I was worthy of the Fields of Punishment! C'mon! Have they seen my sad face? Who could resist those beautiful, tragic, gorgeous, puppy-dog eyes?

Apparently they could. I was sent to the Fields of Punishment. I saw people being torn apart by monsters, forced to roll rocks up hills, having their blood turn to fire, being repeatedly disemboweled...I'd go on, but I wouldn't want to make me sick.

I expected something like that! But the Furies were cruel. Their punishment for me was a million times worse. They separated me from the one I love most. For the rest of eternity, I had to live in a five star hotel...without mirrors! I had the time of my death without being able to share it with myself. Oh, it was horrible. Sometimes I would glance into a spoon or into one of the many private pools surrounded by lush gardens, but it wasn't the same! In these reflections I was all ugly and distorted! I wasn't myself!

Worse, I have constant spa days. I weep uncontrollably, my surprisingly attractive tears streaming across my pampered skin. My nails, buffed and clipped to perfection. My hair, shampooed and styled. My pores, clear and healthy. And yet...I can't share it with myself. If you are at all empathetic, I would advise you stop reading this now as it only gets sadder.

Why was I being punished? What did I do that was so bad? Apparently I was prideful and cruel! Prideful? I was showing appreciation for me! I made me happy all my life. I would have gone through anything for me! I would have done anything so we could be together! And I did do everything! I traveled far and wide to expand my mirror collection so I could see me from every possible angle! I always put my needs first!

Cruel? Okay, maybe I was jealous! But how could I not be? I am really, really great! And gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, comely, pretty, becoming, aesthetically pleasing, fashionable, and drop dead amazing! Let's face it, I'm pretty pretty! Okay, so maybe I was a little rude when some random ugly nymph or goddess hit on me, but I mean, me and me have had such a beautiful lifelong relationship going on and some lovesick girl isn't going to end it! Or boy, for that matter! Excuse me for being committed!

Ah, but I've appealed the decision enough times. For now I'll just sit sadly on my huge canopy bed with goose down pillows and soft sheets and think about myself. Oh, the cruelty of the underworld. To make me so close to me, but unable to see me. It's horrible. After all, my appearance is my favorite part about me. Call me shallow, but what can you say?

Actually, don't call me shallow or I'll punch you for insulting the one I love. Yes, I'm very protective of me. I just love me that much! So, back to how gorgeous I am...I am beyond the reaches of any language. I had some hopes for that upstart language...Engfish, I think it's called. Maybe...Engdish? After all, there are half a dozen words for nearly everything, but alas, nothing there could convey how much I love me.

I love me like a porcelain dove loves bubble wrap. I love me like a louse loves a huge uninfected scalp. I love me like Hades loves being weird. I love me like a poet loves similes. And why do I feel that way? Because I am as beautiful as the sun when it sets over a beautiful place that isn't crawling with tourists. Because I am as beautiful as asphodel poking through a sea of souls. Hmmm...I kinda like that. Not as much as me, of course, but I still like it. Yes, asphodel is the perfect flower to describe me with. We're both beautiful. We're both stuck in the underworld without mirrors. And, most uncannily, both of us have names starting in the first fourteen letters of the Engfish/Engdish alphabet. Yes, this must be destiny.

Like asphodel, I am underappreciated. Look at me (and count yourself lucky), the loveliest person ever to walk this Earth. And how am I appreciated? I get a measly flower named after me. Oh, and an adjective. How many mythological figures, lesser than I, have gotten eponymic words. Vulcan, the ugly idiot, got volcano. Aphrodite got aphrodisiac. Jupiter got jovial. Nothing sets those gods, who are all hideous in comparison, apart from me! Can you imagine the horror?

I'm actually not sure what "narcissistic" means. I'm pretty sure that it is something along the lines of spectacularly beautiful, though. Maybe the Engdish language has not failed me yet! It has provided a word to fully describe how amazingly gorgeous I am: narcissistic!

I am narcissistic! How glorious it is to say that! I only wish I had a mirror to celebrate my success with. I only wish my great love was with me.

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